Idiotproof is highly suspect terminology
by sirensoundwave
Summary: The sides of Light and Dark both have terrible ideas yet somehow Dumbledore's is worse; the plans to make a martyr for the greater good and tie up loose ends to insure the Deatheaters' victory unravel spectacularly; one angry Chaos Mage is yanked onto the mortal plane against their will while another storms in hellbent on tearing the wizarding world apart.
1. Chapter 1

Yes, another plunnie. Let's screw up the HP world.

Anyone familiar with my original chaos mages and their 'cousins' spanning the multiverse knows this can't be good for wizarding kind.

#3...2...1...GO!#

"A being of light?" The Deputy Headmistress cast a wary glance at the massive ancient tomb her superior waved about gayly.

"Yes Minerva. Think of it, a pure form of magic untouched by darkness. Incorruptible!" Dumbledore was quite pleased with his discovery. "With this ritual, we can harness it's power to return young Potter to us. Into safe hands."

While Fawkes really liked the idea of the young one being returned or at least knowing the child was alright, over the past decade, the phoenix began to doubt 'safe hands' belonged to any in this room. Right now, the leader of the light and his Order stood in the Black Manor's front parlor late in the morning. Laying out the groundwork of an ancient spell to 'return what hath been lost, by grace of the Light".

If he could have, the bird would've face palmed.

First of all, any nitwit knows capital letters are for proper names. That said, this Light was most likely sentient. If asked, politely, it might deign to assist them. However, if Albus thought he was going to force such an entity to bend to his will with crudely drawn squiggles, well then decades of those god awful lemon drops must have rotted his mind instead of his teeth.

"Almost high noon." Mad Eye announced, clicking his pocket watch shut. "We ought begin now Dumbledore."

"Yes, yes quite true. Places round the circle everyone."

What appeared in the center of the design was a small child in the most bizarre reminded Remus of pictures he had seen of Arabic dancers. A thin swath of loosely hanging silk fabric that barely passed as a top. Wide strips of sheer fabric connected by a series of gold disks strung together like a belt covered the legs which were otherwise bare save a 4 gold bangles on one ankle and a string of 7 more pear shaped emeralds on the other. The feet bare but lacking any dirt or other sign of wear. Similar cloth comprised the shawl secured to the ornate bracelets about thin wrists. A gold circlet showed on a lightly tanned forehead, a tiny butterfly dangling from it resting askew on the skin. Barrettes and beads of the same precious materials adorned long black hair. Every jewel and piece of cloth some shade of green.

Unquestionably the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. Was this even a boy, muchless Harry? If so...where was that famous scar?

Terrified, the boy (are we sure about that?) curled into a ball right on the floor. Babbling in a tongue that confounded the wizards. Sounding more like the plucking of harp strings and the clink of windchimes the child's rapid fire speech was lost on them. Still any idiot could tell the poor thing was frightened out of their mind.

Then again we're not talking about just any idiots.

Deep green pools looked up at the adults surrounding him on all sides. All wearing strange clothes, talking in some language they didn't understand. The plump red haired woman, a man with massive facial scars and an old one with a lot of white hair all moved closer at the same time.

"Harry my boy, it is good to see you again."

About then, Fawkes decided a fly in the noon day sun would be a wonderful idea.

Seeing the advancing strangers did not intend to back off, the little one drew in a deep breath.

And SHREIKED.

Long and high pitched like a banshee.

Every piece of glass in the dilapidated structure exploded. Even Moody's magical eye cracked. The very foundation began to quake, buckling with threat to collapse.

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Weasley covered her ears and attempted to approach the scared child. "Calm down deary. No will hurt you-"

"Stupefy!" The red stunner struck head on, instantly silencing the noise.

"Moody, was that really necessary?!" Tonks gasped once the kid went limp.

"Aye, unless you were anxious to dig out of the ruins of this shack lass," The Ex Auror rolled his...eye. The wonky blue one wasn't doing anything but lazily listing to one side of the socket. The long crack occasionally sputtering a spark.

If only they had realized the pandora's box they'd opened.

Someone might have taken pity on Voldemort and personally tried to dissuade him from following a very similar summons...

#3...2...1...GO!#

I would love to keep going when I have time but am dubious about my knowledge of the HPverse (90% of what i know came for other fanfics :P).

Let me know whatcha think. Remember this is a plot bunnie so updates are not guaranteed.

Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	2. Chapter 2

"Remarkable..." Dumbledore marveled over the pretty creature lying on the sofa. Attempts to remove the decadent jewelry had resulted in being painfully zapped, actually just grazing the pieces did. "Such an interesting defense mechanism."

"Interesting?!" Molly bellowed. "Albus, he's out cold and those charmed bobbles won't even let us check him over properly!"

Fawkes, having returned from his impromptu flight (unnoticed to his dismay but not unexpected) sat preening atop a bust of some random Black family member on a high shelf. The upper winds were particularly vicious today knocking a few feathers askew. Once done, he finally got a proper look at the newest addition. Or rather, bothered to feel the child's aura.

Sonnuva bitch!

Heaven help them, they were all so very screwed.

The child lying in a magically induced coma was NOT Harry Potter. Not anymore. Chaos magic rolled off him in great waves the same way a witch or wizard's magic radiated from their core. Couldn't they see this wasn't a young wizard but the child of a god? Stories of such fearsome creatures with awesome powers are well known in the "lesser" magical being community. Gods and goddesses who set the world in motion, then observed. Occasionally intervening when they saw fit.

Fawkes was young by his kind's standards but had interacted with those older than himself. His chosen wizard didn't know everything the phoenix did. One elder female had told him long ago, humans of all kinds lived with full knowledge of the magical world, including the mighty chaos mages. But once the humans began to segregate themselves, from each other and beings thet weren't enough like them, they began to forget the very ones who gave them life and their precious magic. The mundane population kept variations of them alive in their religions but for some reason, the magicals didn't. Creatures, however, never forgot.

The dependence upon wands and other focal instruments is generally accepted as being a curse; punishment for their past trangressions. Something magical Europe would know if they got off of their high horses and actually spoke to other magical humans. Stick waving is generally confined to the old world and repressed portions of former colonies. If only the Ministry knew how worthless a statue of secrecy was abroad...

In short, the ones who raised this boy were going to be furious. If some arrogant prat snatched your child, wouldn't you be? The phoenix really hoped that butterfly didn't mean what he thought it did...

"Nngh..." The boy's eyes shot open. So did his mouth. Wands raised instinctively, spells at the ready. Before the idiots did something they'd regret, Fawkes swooped down to rest on the back of the old sofa.

And sang, hoping to soothe the frightened thing. Why were they so blind to obvious distress?

/Oh! A phoenix! Where am I? Who are these people pretty bird? And who are you?/ The same musical language flowed from the child.

Oh, good. That response was better that expected; he could explain.

/My names is Fawkes and they are wizards my lord. They were searching for a child lost to them years ago. You are what they found. May I ask your name?/

/Mama named me Baraket, so I know I'm not lost./ He huffed. /What in all the affinity made them think that?!/

/I...have no idea./

"Well, Fawkes seems to have pacified him. Anyone know a translation spell?" Smiled Arthur relieved the child wasn't hurt.

"Not a spell but a potion. I must retrieve it from my private stores. Though getting him to swallow it might prove difficult." Severus thought aloud.

"Why didn't you bring it with you?" Tonks rolled her eyes, hair turning bright blue.

"It didn't occur to me that our greatest obstacle would amount to a language barrier Nymphadora." The potions master smirked. Knowing her name agitated her, he vanished with a loud crack. Sure enough, blue switched to firey red. Causing who they knew to be Harry to jump and shout in alarm.

For crying out loud Snape!

/It's alright Lord Bakaret. They're a bit...eccentric but they mean well. He will return with a drink to help you understand them and vice versa. An assist with translation, harmless enough./

/I understand YOU just fine. Can't you do it? I don't want to put strange things in my mouth./ Bakaret's nose wrinkled in distaste. /It could be poison for all I know./

/Sadly, they don't understand phoenix either.I highly doubt they would be stupid enough to hurt you./ The 'on purpose' was left unsaid.

/Hn./

"Maybe Fawkes could get him to agree, seems able to understand the boy and other way round." Moody sounded, well moody. Suddenly being half blind (again) will do that.

Remus, who had been strangely quiet merely nodded. The wolf was giving him mixed signals. On one hand, it wanted to protect and comfort young Harry. Cater to his every whim. On the other, the beast acted as if the child would kill him them a look. Deep down, he knew this was a bad idea but hadn't been able to dissuade his old teacher from the ritual. He really wished he tried harder. And that Minerva hadn't been called back to the school, he was better with children...

#3...2...1...Go!#

Well, Snape had been back for 30 minutes. The staring contest with their guest lasted for fifteen so far.

The first fifteen consisted of Fawkes trying to convey to the wizards that Lord Bakaret had no problem taking to potion.

If Snape drank it first.

Their brilliant solution consisted of guesturing and speaking slowly, as if he were dafted.

Hence the standoff.

Argh!

Finally, the exasperated professor downed a dose. Then immediately began saying the wrong things to get a child of any kind to cooperate.

"Listen here Potter. We did not go through all this trouble to have you be ungrateful for our efforts. The potion is harmless, drink it and we all can move on." Remus buried his face in his hands in the fire bird's place. The man was still speaking his native tongue, but his words now made sense to the boy who raised a brow at the demand.

/First of all, my name is Bakaret mortal, how dare you speak to me like that. I don't know or care who this Potter person is. Second, what have I to be grateful for? Being kidnapped? When my family realizes I am missing, you all will be sorry. Third, why did it just now occur to you to drink the potion yourself?/

"You knew what we were asking you?!" Outraged, Snape threw his arms up. The outburst shocked the others too.

/Yes./ Bakaret leveled a flat stare. /Seeing as I don't know you people, your first step should have been what you just did. To talk to me instead of moaning and flailing at me like I'm special. I assume you're all adults./

Between the amused chortling noise made by his familiar, the glowering from his potions professor and the agitated posture of Harry, Dumbledore began to wonder just what this would all lead to.

And if it was a good thing.

...

Then seriously doubting it was.

#3...2...1...Go!#

Fawkes and Bakaret are just lil buckets of sass aren't they? So ends the teaser. The real story is still up in the air though, but hope you enjoyed this. I was going to end it with Moldyshorts getting his ass whooped but couldn't decide if the dark mage he summoned should be Gabriel, Sylphine's twin and Bakaret's uncle or Castor (Klarion the Witchboy), her husband and his father. One would maim first, question later. The other would torture the man into insanity. Both just as anxious to calm a surely raging storm goddess looking for her son.

FYI, Bakaret is Hebrew for emerald.

Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.


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